SPN: "Always"
Category: Supernatural, Impalaverse
Title: Always
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Enabler: firesign10
Summary: Really, it never mattered. Spoilers through 10.03.
So, yeah, the car is being a wee bit cantankerous about the other seasons, so since we finished the season 10 story, we’re posting the season 10 story, and then I’ll go back and fill in. I think she just hates Cas.
He feels different. There’s a power crackling around him that’s never been there before, dark and bitter. It has something to do with that piece of bone he carries now. It’s different and richer and stronger than the harsh demon-taint of the bearded idiot he keeps hanging around with.
She knows something’s not right. She knew that as soon as Sammy put Dean in her back seat and drove her back to the underground house, weeping so hard that she kept having to take over. She hadn’t understood until later that Sammy thought Dean was dead.
Honestly, the boy really should trust her by now. It’s not like she’s never had Dean’s corpse in her back seat before. Despite the spilled blood, despite the cold of his flesh, she knew he wasn’t dead. His heart had been stilled, but there had still been life within him.
And then Dean had come out of the underground house with that new dark power radiating from him and they’d driven off, and she was confused, but it’s not like he and Sammy hadn’t spent the last year acting like petulant children.
Humans.
The bearded idiot was with him, and there was much discussion-of blades and marks, demons and the need to kill. But they’re on the road and it’s her and her Dean, the only things she has ever needed, and if he tolerates the bearded idiot, she will, though she’d much rather have him stuffed in the trunk again.
He acts different. He doesn’t call her “baby” anymore. Doesn’t let his hands idly caress her as he gets in and out. Her finish is dull with dirt, there are dings and scratches left untouched, and trash is piling up inside. He is focused on other things, on drink and women and the bearded idiot who for some reason is still not shoved into her trunk.
She accepts. He is her Dean, still, no matter that his eyes sometimes flash as black as her skin. Whatever transformation has taken place, he is still, at his core, Dean-their bond would tell her if it were otherwise-and that is all that matters. As long as she has Dean, as long as the bond is intact, her world is good.
Sammy finds them eventually, of course. Nothing can keep the two of them separated for long.
Sammy is disgusted by the mess, by him.
Sammy is merely a human. He will never understand.
They vanish into the bunker, and she sits out there, forgotten, wondering what is going on. The occasional surge of power-Dean’s dark, then the angel’s bright-tells her nothing.
So much of her life she has spent waiting for him....
Late in the night, when the countryside has gone quiet, Dean comes out to her. There is still the hint of dark and bitter around him, but this...this is Dean. The old Dean.
He runs his hands along her roof, along the hood, the sweet soft way she’s missed for so long. There is a single hot splash on the metal-too hot to be rain. “Forgive me, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I promise, I’ll clean you up, you’ll be better than new....”
He leans against her and weeps, and she doesn’t know why. Their bond is so very strong that it blocks her from doing much of what she can with others. She can’t reach him while he’s still awake, no matter how she tries, can’t explain anything to him, can’t ease his pain.
Can’t tell him it doesn’t matter. That it never mattered.
She’s still his. He’s still hers.
And there is nothing to forgive.
Title: Always
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Enabler: firesign10
Summary: Really, it never mattered. Spoilers through 10.03.
So, yeah, the car is being a wee bit cantankerous about the other seasons, so since we finished the season 10 story, we’re posting the season 10 story, and then I’ll go back and fill in. I think she just hates Cas.
He feels different. There’s a power crackling around him that’s never been there before, dark and bitter. It has something to do with that piece of bone he carries now. It’s different and richer and stronger than the harsh demon-taint of the bearded idiot he keeps hanging around with.
She knows something’s not right. She knew that as soon as Sammy put Dean in her back seat and drove her back to the underground house, weeping so hard that she kept having to take over. She hadn’t understood until later that Sammy thought Dean was dead.
Honestly, the boy really should trust her by now. It’s not like she’s never had Dean’s corpse in her back seat before. Despite the spilled blood, despite the cold of his flesh, she knew he wasn’t dead. His heart had been stilled, but there had still been life within him.
And then Dean had come out of the underground house with that new dark power radiating from him and they’d driven off, and she was confused, but it’s not like he and Sammy hadn’t spent the last year acting like petulant children.
Humans.
The bearded idiot was with him, and there was much discussion-of blades and marks, demons and the need to kill. But they’re on the road and it’s her and her Dean, the only things she has ever needed, and if he tolerates the bearded idiot, she will, though she’d much rather have him stuffed in the trunk again.
He acts different. He doesn’t call her “baby” anymore. Doesn’t let his hands idly caress her as he gets in and out. Her finish is dull with dirt, there are dings and scratches left untouched, and trash is piling up inside. He is focused on other things, on drink and women and the bearded idiot who for some reason is still not shoved into her trunk.
She accepts. He is her Dean, still, no matter that his eyes sometimes flash as black as her skin. Whatever transformation has taken place, he is still, at his core, Dean-their bond would tell her if it were otherwise-and that is all that matters. As long as she has Dean, as long as the bond is intact, her world is good.
Sammy finds them eventually, of course. Nothing can keep the two of them separated for long.
Sammy is disgusted by the mess, by him.
Sammy is merely a human. He will never understand.
They vanish into the bunker, and she sits out there, forgotten, wondering what is going on. The occasional surge of power-Dean’s dark, then the angel’s bright-tells her nothing.
So much of her life she has spent waiting for him....
Late in the night, when the countryside has gone quiet, Dean comes out to her. There is still the hint of dark and bitter around him, but this...this is Dean. The old Dean.
He runs his hands along her roof, along the hood, the sweet soft way she’s missed for so long. There is a single hot splash on the metal-too hot to be rain. “Forgive me, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I promise, I’ll clean you up, you’ll be better than new....”
He leans against her and weeps, and she doesn’t know why. Their bond is so very strong that it blocks her from doing much of what she can with others. She can’t reach him while he’s still awake, no matter how she tries, can’t explain anything to him, can’t ease his pain.
Can’t tell him it doesn’t matter. That it never mattered.
She’s still his. He’s still hers.
And there is nothing to forgive.